


Fools

by Revantio



Category: Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Adventures, Akira is Gay and In Love, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And All Little Shits, And becomes Izanagi, FFS JUST SAY YOU LOVE HIM, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Narukami our Boye gets in Trouble, Narukami-Izanagi is oblivious, Phantom Thieves Gang is DONE seeing Akira mope around, The Personas Have Personalities, Unreliable Narrator, YOU AREN'T TRYING HARD ENOUGH JOKER, shut up guys im trying, who is P5 protag's Velvet Room Attendant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24352084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Revantio/pseuds/Revantio
Summary: arguably is the strongest card in the deck.Outside of his cell was a man, a deep blue velvet suit covering his figure. A long, light-brown coat completed his get up, his black-gloved hands propped behind him. His hair was silver, combined by his milky white skin and his expressionless face, it almost made him look like a ghost. His eyes however, a bright, glowing yellow, staring impassively at Akira.They locked eyes for a moment before another voice spoke, “Welcome to the Velvet Room.”
Relationships: Persona 4 Protagonist/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 13
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

1

Akira was sure he was asleep in his room. And that conviction did nothing to explain this jail cell he woke up in.

 _It’s a dream_ , his mind supplied then, as his hands weight chains which bound his hands and feet. Akira was unfortunately intimate with the feeling of handcuffs around his wrists, the tight pull and the ache accompanied with it. And yet, this chain handcuffs felt nothing like it. Instead of throbbing ache, it’s cool, unrestricting yet held weight at the same time.

“The inmate has awaken.”

The words, spoken by a soothing voice despite its monotonous nature, pulled Akira’s attention away.

He got up from his wooden bench, resisted the urge to clench his teeth as he walked forward and gripped metallic bars in his hands. Outside of his cell was a man, a deep blue velvet suit covering his figure. A long, light-brown coat completed his get up, his black-gloved hands propped behind him. His hair was silver, combined by his milky white skin and his expressionless face, it almost made him look like a ghost. His eyes however, a bright, glowing yellow, staring impassively at Akira.

They locked eyes for a moment before another voice spoke, “Welcome to the Velvet Room, Trickster of Fate.”

Beside the man, there’s a wooden table. Sitting on the table, is a long-nosed old man. An unnerving grin curved beneath his long nose, and Akira clenched the bar tighter.

* * *

2

Akira would have pushed away his dreams and put it in the ‘weird shit born of stress’ box in his mind, if only the… _thing_ with Ryuuji didn’t happen. Unfortunately, it did happen.

And so here Akira is, back to his dream cell called Velvet Room.

Igor made an unnerving figure; like any crooked, long-nosed, grinning man-goblin (maybe) he is. But somehow the man who stood beside him is even more unnerving, and this he managed without doing _anything_. Akira wanted to doze off, but he knew the staring man would disapprove or angry if he doesn’t listen to Igor’s explanations of persona and confidants, and so he resolutely stared back to Igor to focus.

At the end of Igor’s explanation and his (creepily) chuckled, “We will meet again.” The man still didn’t talk.

* * *

3

Ryuuji ended up gaining a Persona, and somehow along the way they decided they have to take down Kamoshida. Akira pushed that particular train of thought away and focused on his Personas—specifically, why does he have more than one? Why is Ryuuji only one? Why and what is this Palace? Why is he stuck in the middle when he actually tried for a peaceful life? Why is Ann involved? Why—

“Inmate.” The cool, soothing voice snapped Akira out of his mind, back in his Jail cell. “Do not be distracted.” The silver-haired man said, no amount of malice or irritation in his figure or his voice, but somehow Akira knew he is annoyed.

Igor was talking about confidants, _The Chariot_ , his helpful mind supplied. Akira broke eye contact with the man’s glowing yellow eyes and focused on Igor instead. The old man’s grin only widens. He explained why Akira can summon multiple personas, but it doesn’t explain the why _why_ , you know? Sure he’s wildcard, but why is he a wildcard? And Igor speaks in … proverbs or … it’s still _confusing_.

In the end the only thing Akira caught was, “We will meet soon. From now on, the room will always be open for you. My dear Detective, Izanagi.” here, Igor nodded to the man beside him, “Apologize for the late introduction. You understand that no respectable detective will normally talk to an Inmate, don’t you?” A breathy chuckle, “But as the Master of this contract, I will allow him to help you with everything you need.”

See, confusing. Detective? What does that ‘everything’ even mean?

The man nodded to Akira, and before he could protest or ask for more information, his dream ended yet with another (creepy), “I eagerly await your progress.” From Igor.

* * *

4

Ann gained Persona, but this Palace is still so confusing.

Shadows pops out of nowhere and from shadows, Personas pops out. See, if they are born from True Self then which true self is this? What would happen with the owner if they become shadows and then become true self again? Worse yet, somehow it’s up to _Akira_ to decide their fates after he and his team beats it up.

Some of the personas are compliant, they listened and they obey. Some others are mischievous if not downright malicious. Akira swore if he slipped ‘accidentally’ by a stray baseball thrown his way by an ‘accidentally’ passing-by Pixie, he would burn this Palace to the ground, the treasure be damned, Mona.

(Distantly, he could hear Arsene laughing in his mind and he shushed his true self down)

That’s why, seeing the familiar blue door at the end of this corridor, is such a relief. Across, there’s a safe room, and Akira waved his team away to safe room as he entered the Velvet room.

“Welcome, Trickster.” The cool voice of the attendant greeted him, the silver-haired man stepping forward to greet Akira in his inmate clothes, “I am Izanagi, your Velvet Room attendant. Is there anything I can help you today?”

Igor is not in sight, and Izanagi (the God?) is standing patiently for Akira to finish taking up his surrounding, outside of the jail cell for once. Still chained and bound though. Akira looked at Izanagi, thinking about his frustrations, his one thousand questions, this ordeal in general, and in the end… he doesn’t speak.

Izanagi did not look annoyed or surprised, not even awkward after a minute or so standing around doing nothing. _Akira_ is feeling awkward. Izanagi somehow made a move of pulling out a stack of cards from his coat looks graceful. His gloved hands moved to shuffle the cards in his hands, and with the same soothing, monotonous voice he always use, he began to _explain_.

It was, inarguably, the most productive one hour in his life, ever.

* * *

5

Akira began to drop off in Velvet Room the first sight he saw the door. He always made a beeline for it when he sees it that it starting to grate on everyone’s nerve.

Akira can’t begin to explain it though. It’s just … calming? Refreshing? Great? He can’t begin to explain why is it he wanted to drop off to the room so often. He did tell his team that it’s his place to gather information, but that alone doesn’t explain the magnitude of information he gained, or the feeling of contentment or freshness after.

Sure, Mona is great at pointing Shadows and Personas weaknesses mid-battle, Ann and Yusuke is great at laying out plans, but his team is different from Izanagi.

“Pixie love sweets. Try bringing candy sometimes.” The attendant remarked offhandedly once, back when they first met without Igor, shuffling cards in his hands before spreading four of them on the table. Each of Akira’s newly acquired Personas materialized in a blue pyre from the card.

Akira brought a lollipop on a whim the next day, and the Pixie obeyed him. In _a minute_. As if she didn’t spend days being an absolute menace terrorizing his team.

“Yatagarasu loves letters.” Izanagi said the other day, holding Cerberus’s card in between his index and middle finger, the Persona bursts to life in a blue fire. Akira crouched down because he couldn’t not pat the dog.

In another hand, Izanagi brought two Personas Akira wanted to fuse in two cards in his hands. Materialized, they are instantly bound to the guillotine. Akira buried his face on Cerberus’s fur just as Izanagi crushed Akira’s cards in his hands, guillotine coming down to claim the Personas’s heads. Akira can’t get used to the feeling of losing his Persona, and Izanagi always knew about things like this without Akira saying anything.

“Not shiny things?” Akira asked, remembering a video about crows hoarding shiny things.

He thought he saw a ghost of a smile on Izanagi’s face, but it goes as fast as it comes, on the attendant’s face. “No. Yatagarasu is the messenger of the Gods. He was my Messenger at a time, for my wife.” Sometimes, Akira wondered if Izanagi is really the God Izanagi turned Detective by how he offhandedly say something like this. “Just letters.”

True enough, Akira left a stray letter addressed to Joker in Memento, and suddenly Yatagarasu comes his way. The ensuing battle, by threatening the letter, wasn’t actually that hard.

And not only Personas’s trivia, weaknesses, or personalities, that Izanagi offered. He also offered combat tactics sometimes. Izanagi would ask his team’s weaknesses and strength, drilling Akira to _remember_ them. (“Your Skull friend doesn’t seem like the sneaky type.” “You don’t say?” A pointed look was given to Akira, “And yet you pit him to _scout_ , Trickster.”)

Other times he would also comment on Akira’s choices of Personas, like now.

“Why are you keeping Pyromaniac?” The Detective asked, twirling a card in his gloved hand and said Pyromaniac appeared, clinging to Akira’s foot with an almost mad cackle from its pumpkin head.

“I.. carved him halloween pumpkin once?”

Akira feels like Izanagi would have sighed, or frowned, but instead he folded his fingers down and the card returns to its deck, along with Pyromaniac. Akira thought Izanagi would complain on his choices of Persona and why is it not good to make them too attached to his person (that Bugs incident where the Persona just latch on Akira for _days_ because Akira offered them a bettle dung; and Izanagi subsequently steamrolled him with a very flat, monotonous _lecture_ about Persona’s obsession and what he should and shouldn’t do), but no, this time he doesn’t.

Akira doesn’t know what to do or feel to this quiet, so he kept quiet too. But then an idea pops in his mind. “You think… I can fusion it with King Frost?”

A frown—and by now Akira is kind of elated because Izanagi rarely ever show any expression, if at all. Even if it’s an annoyed expression, but this is progress all the same. Akira’s kinda, childishly _giddy_ that he’s the one causing Izanagi to show that kind of face—to show any expression at all.

“Don’t be a Joker.” Izanagi snarked, Akira snorted. “You’re the one attached to its pumpkin head.”

Akira, not knowing how to respond to that fact, only grinned.

* * *

6

His team thought Akira is… Invincible.

Ann and Ryuuji obviously trusted his decisions without question. Mona would offer critic and comments on some things but eventually leave it to Akira. Yusuke is the calm wave who washes all, dependable to protect and fall back to, but he trusted his own back to Akira without Question. Even Makoto, the critical Head Student, now followed him around.

There’s a part of Akira that used ‘Invincible’ like a second skin. There’s a part of him who would smirk at danger, roll around his enemies with taunts and mocking laughs, who would relay his multitude of Persona’s tune of victory and materialized it in real life. This part of him materialized with his Joker costume and a mask; the feeling of leather, gun and knives in his hands pushed everything but Joker Invincibility away from his mind.

But Joker’s Persona is not the only one who made Akira as a person.

There’s always that part of his mind who screamed, _you’re an idiot, you’re guilty, you’re going to kill everyone, you’re dragging people down, look where that conviction got you, do you know how dangerous this is? look what your parents think of you now; **worthless**._ There’s always that Akira who thinks, what if; what if he ignored the woman then, what if he keeps his head down, what if he changed phone instead, what if—what if he did not go against Kaneshiro and his yakuza?

Would his friends be alright then? Would they be able to survive, then? Would they be able to get out of this dungeon full of traps, then?

… Would Sojiro-san be alright then?

In retrospect, _that_ part of Akira said bitterly, you should have expected a dirty play. Of course Kaneshiro would find something, of course he would have hired people to track you and your friends down. Of course Mementos is not something to be relied on fully; how are you so sure no other people know of its existence?

_How can you be so useless? What kind of leader are you?_

Even with Sojiro-san hospitalized by a yakuza attack and the clear threat of someone from Kaneshiro’s side knowing and using Mementos, the Phantom Thief still moved forward. The calling card is already sent, after all. The Heist still have to be done.

Akira morphed to Joker once more, discarding his cracked heart and conscience, forcefully shoving his doubts and putting Joker to pressure against his Akira, mercilessly grinding his anxiety and morphing it to flames of vengeance. How dare they, _how dare they_. His team was wary, but Joker knew they guessed it because of Sojiro-san. They are not wrong. Faithfully, his team followed him to the Palace.

And then it all turned to hell.

* * *

?

Everyone is—

_flames licked around, gold melting his hands, spikes grinding to a halt, a red panther barely recognizable from its blood_

—alright. The treasure is in his hands. It’s alright now. It’s alright. And yet—

_there’s a laugh as_ he _stomped the rat down mercilessly, around him a crowd of supernaturals jeered and tore its skin and flesh, burn its gluttony and rip its snout to pieces, for the sleeping fox, for the cracked skull, for the discarded queen_

—why is there nothing at the end? It’s nothing at the end of the road, see. It’s empty. What’s this thing for, _now_?

_how dare you how dare you how dARE!_

“Trickster.”

There’s only gold. The glowing yellow gold moons. A silver sky above them, framed within silk. _That’s… not it_. Joker’a mind grinded to an abrupt halt. Izanagi stood in front of him, his blue suit and coat impeccable even in the middle of ( _Arsene’s_ ) blue pyre, untouchable figure even in hell.

Instead of a stack of cards, there’s a silver katana in his hand. As Izanagi flicked its blade and returned it to its black sheath in one move, everything … run backwards. Arsene was forcefully pulled back, with him his blue pyre, and Cerberus, Seth, Pyromaniac—Kaneshiro’s golden throne returned to its glory, nothing amiss and nothing destroyed. No scattered money, no shadows, no blood, no … bodies.

Izanagi knocked his katana standing in front of him, voice as soothing and monotonous as always, “You have one week.”

* * *

7

Akira woke up in Velvet Room, laying down on his uncomfortable bench of an inmate.

Igor is not on sight, but Izanagi is there, for once standing in the middle of his cell. Akira spent a lot of time he didn’t count to stare at the dark ceiling, thinking of his nightmare of a heist. How, one by one, his friends was cut down mercilessly, bloody, down by Kaneshiro’s—

Akira choked back a sob, heart thundering in his ribcage, nausea made him want to keel and vomit but his stinging eyes and Izanagi’s presence dictates otherwise. He failed. Sojiro-san and his team. Everyone he grew to care, he couldn’t protect them. He let his friends down. He _murdered_ his friends. He betrayed their trust. He’s—

The teen curled up on himself, on the tiny wooden bench. He rolled over to face the wall and forced his knees up, hugging himself, trying to be as small as possible. He couldn’t quite stop the tears from his eyes nor the sobs wrecking his chest, so he lets them be.

Akira fell asleep with the feeling of someone carding his hair and stroking his head gently.

He woke up with alarm blaring beside his bed, his phone showed the date was 4/5. One week before the Heist of Hell. Akira ignored the lump growing on his throat and replied greeted Mona’s good morning.

* * *

7.5

“You are doing it again.”

Barely holding a flinch, Akira turned to face the silver-haired man. “Do what?”

Izanagi’s yellow eyes seemed to stare through him, and Akira struggle to cling to his indifferent air. “Your friends are more than your confidants for your Persona.” Izanagi begins, slowly. “You are still clouded, Trickster. No one can help you if you don’t allow anyone to help.”

“I…” Akira started, and then stopped. Izanagi, as usual, is speaking through riddles but somehow he understands. Izanagi knows, of his mental condition of course. Izanagi knew _everything_. But does he—can he—does Akira wants to say it out loud?

If he say it, then it would mean Akira would have to acknowledge it. But can he afford to? For so long he thought he couldn’t afford to acknowledge it. There are stakes at hand here, human lives, even. His friends’s, Madarame’s victims, and now Kaneshiro’s victims. Can he afford to admit his weakness and broke? He’s supposed to be the Leader, the Invincible Joker, unruffled and unrelenting. Does he want to admit that he’s not as Invincible as he wants to think?

But…

But Izanagi is different. He’s always different, isn’t he?

Izanagi is not his friends. He’s not in his team. He’s always been the unflinching Detective with a calming voice and dry humor. Izanagi knew everything about Joker, how Joker formed his plans and how he performed his shows. He knew Joker’s bad habit for hoarding weak Personas for terrorizing his Phantom Thieves, knew Joker’s minute (fond) complaints of his team’s antics, and knew Joker’s smirks and preference for guns. But Izanagi also knew everything about Akira, who would simply lay down with Cerberus and hides his face between its fur because he couldn’t stand losing his Persona in fusion. He knew about Akira who would be too exhausted to do anything but lay down in his cell, like a puppet losing string. Izanagi knew about Akira who would shimmy his Persona around Igor’s table so to not leave any scrape marks.

Izanagi has always been Izanagi, who would not judge because it’s beyond his emotional capability. Who would be patient to wait for Akira to finish talking about mundane things with Arsene before doing anything important with his Persona. Izanagi is a constant, Akira realized. No matter what happens, he would never change. Not with Akira.

And so Akira took a shaky breath and admitted, “… I’m scared.”

Encouraged by Izanagi’s patient look, Akira spilled everything in his chest; his worries, his doubts, his wounds and insecurity laid bare for the Detective to see.

“Trickster,” in the end, Akira was pulled by Izanagi’s call, his voice gentler than usual, “let your friends know about this.”

Akira wanted to protest, but he’s too sleepy and there’s a shadow of his alarm in the back of his head. The point was he _can’t_ tell his friends, didn’t Izanagi hear him earlier?

“You underestimate your friends.” Akira might imagine it, but that sounds like a sigh. “Trickster. If not for you, then for me. If you tell them, I would give you a gift. I promise.”

Izanagi never promises anything before. And gifts? What can the Detective do from this room? Akira would have said no, he would really have, if not for Izanagi who grabbed his hand and circling his gloved pinkie around Akira’s own pinkie finger.

“Now the contract has been made.”

Groaning on his own bed, Akira face-palmed. Now he’s too afraid to betray that contract to _not_ tell his friends anything. Damn you, Izanagi.

* * *

8

They did it.

_They did it._

The Phantom Thieves really made Kaneshiro admits his crimes, his faults broadcasted for the world to see. Truthfully Akira have been so anxious it almost drove him sick. Truthfully on the day of the Heist he’d been so off of it that he almost fainted due to panic attack. Truthfully, after said panic attack, he expected his Team to turn away and leave him alone, but no one did.

Akira had rushed his explanation, beginning with, “I have a nightmare about this Heist.” with a choked panic.

He then explained said nightmare with stuttered words. Explained his worries and his doubts with trembling hands. He was expecting his Team to change their perspective of him. To find a new Leader, to scold him for his failures.

They did none of it.

What Ann did was bite her lower lip before hugging Akira, who was still laying down on the sofa. What Ryuuji did was knelt in front of him and said, with a low voice, that he’s _sorry for making you think like that and not realizing anything is amiss._ It’s the first time he saw Ryuuji so serious, it shocked him to breath. Mona, despite claiming not a cat, offered himself as a comfort plushie by propping himself near his hand. Yusuke also said he’s sorry, holding his still trembling hand. Makoto watched quietly, but when Akira looks at her eyes, there’s understanding in her eyes, along with the fierce determination of Student Council President she always is.

They tried to convince him to do the Heist another day, but Makoto is right they couldn’t afford such time.

The Phantom Thieves had then stormed the Palace with more fervor than they did before, making up for their Akira, looking out for him and covered where they could, and they had won.

Even sitting in his own room on second floor of LeBlanc, with his team in front of their celebratory Hotpot, still feels like a dream. In a span of less than twelve hours, his friendship with his team has improved leaps and bounds. Akira is cared, even more so. Laughters bubbles with Cards Against Humanity around them, even Makoto is chuckling. Akira feels warm, and this day couldn’t get any better, this is the best day yet.

“Akira! There’s an Izanagi here! He your friend?”

He thought it couldn’t get any better.

But when Akira stood up abruptly and went down with ‘ _that’s impossible’_ hammering in his brain, and when he met Izanagi’s golden eyes, Akira grinned even wider.

“As our contract states,” Izanagi said, pulling out a small box from his coat, and hands it to Akira. “A gift for you.”

Akira was too busy trying not to grin too wide, but it’s a difficult feat. He accepted the small box, but his attention was soon given to the man. His silver hair, not under dim light of cell, looks more fluffy and immaculate than it already was. His blue velvet suit looked rich, and his yellow eyes was more deep gold under light like this. “You can go out.” Akira accused, couldn’t help being childish at this.

Izanagi merely blinked and repeated, “As our contract states.” Not offering anymore explanations.

The teen hummed, not offering anything anymore, busy looking at his gift box, covered in smooth blue velvet. He was about to offer Izanagi to coffee or maybe upstairs with his team when Izanagi said, “Congratulations.”

Startled, Akira looked back at Izanagi.

His breath was, quite literally, almost stopped, as he saw a smile on Izanagi’s face.

It wasn’t even a wide smile, just a small upturns of his lips. But his golden eyes crinkled down, in sincere. Akira had never, ever see Izanagi smile. Not even a smirk. Any other expressions Akira managed Izanagi make is out of annoyance or irritation, often times just deadpans. This though. This is a _smile_.

Izanagi’s gloved hand reached across the table to hold Akira’s hand which was on his gift box. It felt warm, even through the leather glove. Akira’s breath stuttered even more.

“Don’t doubt yourself anymore, my Wildcard.”

* * *

8.5

“Guys.” Akira breathed. His Team, apparently already tired of annoying him to ask _who was that_ , ignored him. That’s fast. Usually they need five minutes of him ignored them before they gave it. Has it already been five minutes?

(It’s been fiveteen minutes, actually)

“Guys.” Akira repeated, finally looking up from the stack of Tarot Cards in his hands. The Tarot Cards which felt like.. like his friend’s Personas, like his own’s Personas. Yusuke stopped from chewing his noodle, looking at him with a raised brow. That’s one.

“ _Guys_!” He slammed his palm on the table, and immediately regretted it as pain spiked from his palm. He pulled them back with a wince, “And Ladies!” added belatedly when Ann and Makoto still talks on their own.

Once Akira gets all their attention, he said, “Thank you.”

“Finally!” Mona said.

“So, you’re finally going to tell explain what’s up?” Ann prompted.

“Yeah bro, who was that? What was that? I’ve never seen you out of it like that, too!” Ryuuji egged.

Akira ignored them, and instead, with the most serious, Joker tone he could pull off (because this is truly a serious matter) said, “Guys, I think I’m in love.”

A second silence.

Makoto snorted then covered her mouth with her hand to make it look more dignified, Yusuke looks stunned, Ryuuji’s jaw drops, Ann’s yelled, “You’re better than this, Akira Kurusu! You can’t fall in the most stupidly cliché trope of love at first sight! _You’re better than this_! You can’t accept gifts from strangers either, Akira!” was a caught with Morgana’s, “I knew it! I knew it for _ages_!”

* * *

8.75

It’s hard to explain.

It’s like everything he knew is coming to perfect conclusion. All this time he wanted to see Izanagi, wanting to drop off in Velvet Room. His calming presence, their enjoyable banters… it all made perfect sense.

Once Izanagi smiled at him, Akira could barely think about anything else. It’s—he wouldn’t make any sense even if he tried to explain it to his friends. It’s just. It’s so _nice_.

… See, he barely have any words to describe it.

Izanagi’s smile is soft and gentle. He looks happy, his golden eyes crinkling up, head tilting a bit, painting an image he doesn’t know he needed but when he experienced it, he wanted more. What other things would make Izanagi smile? What does he like? Any food to make him smile? He seems to be initiating physical contact, so will Izanagi smile if Akira holds his hand? Or will he smile when he hugs Izanagi?

Holding hands with him.. hugging him… yes, _yes_ , Akira wants that. It sounds so nice. Izanagi is warm, and he smells vaguely like rainy days and electricity. His face is white and chiseled, and his mouth is pale grey, Akira wanted to kiss it because it looks cold. If he kisses him, would Izanagi smile then? And—and how does his hair feel like? His silver hair looks so tame but they bounced back when Izanagi turned his head. Are they fluffy?

In a matter of minutes, just by a smile, Izanagi became Akira’s _life purpose_.

It’s terrifying. It’s exciting. It made him anxious. So this is a serious matter. This is a very serious matter, because Izanagi can cripple him with a smile and Akira isn’t sure if he would stop himself from being crippled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira's peak simping ft. Izanagi's existential crisis  
> 

0

His name is Izanagi.

An existence by the will of the Gods and the guardian of Fates as his Master. Izanagi has one and only one purpose; to guide the Fool through their journey.

Izanagi know not of the outside world. He understands not of human concepts as feelings and hearts. He deems them unnecessary to perform his purpose.

Izanagi, however, intimately knew of the _board_ in which the Gods decided to play. He recognized human’s sea of souls as if they are his own, felt their movements on the board as his own blood flowing his veins. He saw how humans move and play on their own kin, on their own mind and hearts, be it ruthlessness or kindness; with or without Igor by his side.

And he did nothing.

It was not Izanagi’s purpose to meddle.

* * *

4.5

The Trickster is a man made of curiosity. He fired questions after questions, brows furrowing beneath his curly fringes with every answer Izanagi offered. By every satisfaction, an unsatisfacted frown would appear and frustration written all over his expression.

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” The Fool said, sighing, “but why _me_? Why do the Gods chose me to harness people’s souls? Do you know how creepy that is?” Amusingly, a horrified pause, “Why not Ryuuji or Ann? Or Morgana! He’s been here longer than me, right? Why am _I_ the Fool?”

Why, Indeed.

_( Why me? It’s not like I want to let these murders continue but there are police and I’m just a teen so why— )_

Izanagi hums, ignoring the buzzing static at the back of his mind with a blink. “Do not waste your time with questions that you don’t want the answer to, Trickster.” He propped his hands behind his back, looking straight at the Trickster’s grey eyes.

An eyebrow raised beneath silver fringes, and after a while, the Trickster gave up with another sigh. Another question ready at his mouth, “So how do I take care of my personas? Do they have personalities?”

* * *

_“_ _So you want to seduce him, right? Why don’t you try nude modelling in front of him?”_

 _“I—_ what _? I don’t—_ Ann _!“_

_“Come on Akira! Here here! I saw a cute lingerie for you!”_

_“Wha—Ann, I’m really sorry I’ll never do that again and I love you and I beg you please don’t make me—Ann_ please _!“_

_“Ann-dono on revenge is scary…”_

_“She sure is… Man… I’ve never seen Akira so_ red _before….”_

_“Not that I don’t agree about Takamaki-san picking a suitable lingerie for Akira—“_

_“Yusuke!”_

_“—but shouldn’t we… let him get on a date first before… jumping the gun, as the saying goes?”_

_“Don’t worry Akira-kun. We’ll pick some chocolates and flowers for your man after you pick your lingerie, yes?”_

_“You too, Makoto?!”_

* * *

9

Izanagi blinked at the bouquet of red roses the Trickster offered him in his gloved hand. Without word, the detective accepted it, observing the sheen of red color under the dim light of Velvet Room. Izanagi isn’t sure what he feels about it, or how he should react—he doesn’t know why Trickster gave him this. Izanagi’s own gift was different, it was an (unofficial) contract, and it is Izanagi’s purpose to keep the Trickster from ending his journey prematurely.

Yet there’s the unmistakable amusement in Izanagi’s gut as the Trickster shifted nervously when Izanagi accepted a box of chocolate with his other hand.

_( What’re you, playboy?! Just how many chocolate did you get bro?! )_

Izanagi tightens his grip on the bouquet, “Thank you, Trickster.”

The black-haired Fool relaxed his shoulder minutely—would have been unnoticed to anyone else but Izanagi—and there’s his trademark Joker smirk. “You’re welcome. It’s about time I gave you a gift after all you have done for me, after all.”

That’s not true, Izanagi thinks. It is his duty, his purpose, to guide the Trickster. To not let him astray. The Trickster does not need to do anything to repay him, merely seeing the journey until the end is enough. But as Izanagi knew Trickster, he kept his mouth shut. Humming in neither agreement or disagreement, not wanting to argue with the Wildcard.

“So.. I, ah, have a question…” Trickster began, but Izanagi was distracted by something else—three something elses, actually.

Apsaras floated with Silky and High Pixie, the three personas crowding Izanagi—specifically, the roses in his hand. Izanagi easily undo the ribbon tying the paper and sheds the paper bouquet away, left only a bundle of red roses in his hand. He gave one to Apsaras, and the persona accepted it before twirling in the air. Another one for Silky, the persona grasped it in her fingers before floating to Trickster. Flabbergasted as he is, Izanagi watched as the Trickster put the flower on Silky’s hair, the Persona singing a happy tune while staying still. High Pixie eyed the box of chocolate, but eventually settled with two roses on her hair before giggling away.

One by one, the Trickster’s Personas (mostly the female ones; Jack Frost accepted one only to freeze it and then gave it to Titania, Arsene somehow managed to steal one while Izanagi’s not looking) each have one roses, which they wore proudly, floating around the Velvet Room. Even Yatagarasu have one in its beak.

Izanagi’s attention though, was taken away by Obariyon’s hand reaching up from the other side of the table, trying to pull the box of chocolate for himself. He quickly snatched the box in his hands before Jack o’ Lantern made a move to grab it from above. Black Frost and Bugbear crowded Izanagi’s feet then, hands reaching up, making whining noises that, would it not Trickster and Izanagi in the room, would probably flee in fright.

Again, Izanagi opened the box of chocolate before crouching down to feed one for each Personas. One for Nekomata’s happy cheer. One for Matador’s disappointed shuffle as the piece of chocolate melts in his bony fingers. Cerberus whined as Trickster distractedly holding the Persona from moving by his neck, red gloved hands patting Cerberus’s snout in consolation, “I’m not sure if chocolate is not poisonous for you, bud.” Trickster muttered.

In the end, Izanagi found himself with new trashes that he isn’t sure where should they go.

“I apologize,” Izanagi said, facing the somehow stunned and confused Trickster standing beside the whining Cerberus, “What did you want to ask me, Trickster?”

Trickster is in silence, wide eyed in surprise as he looked at Izanagi. Also flabbergasted, then five seconds later his brows furrowed beneath his white bird-mask, obviously annoyed. Izanagi watched and noted all of this in silence. Is there something happened that caused this?

Distantly, Izanagi glanced at the giggling Titania and Scathatch on the other side of the room. Gossiping, definitely.

Trickster opened his mouth. Closed it. Open it and closed it again. He made a good impression of a fish, Izanagi watched silently. A very confused fish. Izanagi is starting to get concerned. “…. Nevermind.” The wildcard finally settled, his grey eyes unreadable.

Izanagi tilted his head in confusion, but eventually shrugged as Trickster stiffly turned around and walked straight to Arsene, reaching up to tug the snickering Persona’s wing down. Obvious annoyance in his body language as he conversed with his True Self. _Hmmm_?

_( It’s Valentine, right?! A beary special day of love right?! Senpai senpai! Let’s go hunt beary delicious chocolates! )_

Izanagi blinked, willing the static away as he caught the falling lamp from the table. He sent an unimpressed look at Jack o’ Lantern as the persona floats away. Trickster is too lenient on that one.

* * *

_“_ _So let me get this straight. You gave him the flowers and the chocolates. And then he gave it to YOUR personas, and you didn’t ask him on a date because you’re too busy gaping like a fish. That’s—_ Akira! _”_

_“Well…. But now I know he’s good with children.”_

_“Personas are not children, Akira.”_

_“Tell that to Carmen who danced and giggled for three hours in the Palace because I played Habanera.”_

_“That’s—“_

_“Or Captain Kidd who cackled for days when I gave him an eye patch.”_

_“That doesn’t mean they’re children! They’re Personas! It’s different!_

_“Don’t talk to me or my two dozens children ever again, Morgana.”_

_“Now, now, Akira-kun. If you don’t get him on a date, your children wouldn’t get a father and you’ll be paying child fee for your two dozen babies alone.”_

_“M-Makoto-dono?!”_

_“So what, Akira’s the mother? Shouldn’t he be the dad? I think dad and father suits them more.”_

_“_ That’s _what you decided to comment on, Yusuke!?”_

_“And? It’s a valid concern.”_

_“I—argh, whatever! You all are crazy! Akira! You should just ask him what he likes and dislikes! Favorite food colors or whatshit! Get to know him better first, right?! That’s the proper path to a date, isn’t it?! Don’t people just freaks out if they get asked to a date out of nowhere?! …… What? Why are you all looking at me like that?!”_

_Silence._

_“So. Is one going to tell me that our leader is actually a useless simp and Skeleton there actually got a share of braincell between all of us? Is this what you all call the power of friendship?”_

_More silence._

_“In my defense, Futaba-chan, I got second degree embarrassment just from thinking about our…_ simping _leader. I am physically incapable of talking about it.”_

_“Seconded.”_

_“Thirded.”_

_“That’s… Sorry, dude.”_

_“I have no problem of this simping attitude. Love and desires are beautiful thing. Anyone should be allowed to freely express it. Seeing Akira on his passion often times helps me awaken my muse.”_

_“…Thanks Yusuke, love you too. Since Ryuuji is the one who have the braincell between all of us this time, as the Leader I decree you all opinion’s except Ryuuji’s and Yusuke’s is invalid.”_

* * *

10

“Is there something that you like?”

“Not particularly.”

“Dislikes?”

“None.”

“Oh come on, there must be something! Anything?” Trickster twirled Igor’s chair around, his black hair hitting the chair’s back in frustration, “Humor me here, Izanagi.”

The attendant’s lips upturns for mere inch. It’s funny how Trickster resembles a whining Nekomata like this; laying down his head on the table and pouting like a child. Like Persona like Wildcard. “Your suffering humors me.”

“Now you’re just messing with me.”

Izanagi ignored the lazily pointed dagger from the Trickster, lining new batch of Trickster’s Personas on the table. “Why are you asking?”

The Trickster shrugged, and Izanagi frowned.

After a moment of silence, like a determined person he is, Trickster pressed, “So? Any likes or dislikes? Maybe a wish or… anything? Something that catch your attention?” He flipped his dagger disappear from his fingers to his sleeve like nothing, an impressive magic trick as always.

Turning his attention to the question, Izanagi pondered his answers. Nobody has asked that to Izanagi before. So he haven’t think about it. Igor doesn’t think it’s important. Nor the Personas. Is it important to have likes and dislikes? Why does Trickster _insists_? It seems like the answer is important to Trickster more than it’s important to himself, judging by Trickster’s patient staring. And it made Izanagi wanted to answer with something… _sincere_ , though irrelevant and unnecessary it is Izanagi deemed.

 _( What does_ sincere _even mean? What a foreign concept to experience by one… )_

“I….”

_( I like birds. They are so free.. so strong… don’t you think so?_

_Obviously I like meat! Barbeque, meat soup, meat noodle aren’t they the best?!_

_Well… yeah… I like knitting. Small stuffed dolls, too. I like making them. Go on and say it’s girly and shit. … H-huh?! What do you mean it’s awesome?!_ )

Izanagi leaned back minutely, blinking the buzzing static pushing to forefront of his mind. The Trickster frowned, shifting closer to where he’s standing in concern.

“… I think I would like to try a bowl of warm noodle while it’s raining outside.”

( _There is the faint sound of laughter. The smell of rain. The warmth of something in his fingertips. A bubbly voice. Girly giggling. Indignant shouts._

 _A_ name _._ )

“Huh.” Izanagi focused himself to the sound of Trickster’s puzzled but interested hum, to his black messy hair tilted in consideration. “That’s oddly specific.”

( _If it comes down to it_ , a voice said in warmth, _the thing I like the most is being with you guys, plus warm noodle meat in cold rain! Right, ----u---i?_ )

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about something else, Trickster?” Izanagi lowered his head, his silver fringes hopefully covering his eyes and his frown from Trickster’s watchful eyes. It would not do to make his guest notice his … whatever _this_ is disturbing his work. Izanagi opted to change this topic without the Trickster notices. His finger taps the Magician’s Arcana laid on the table. 

Izanagi could _feel_ Trickster’s eyes on his being, ignoring the tapping on the table.

“Are _you_?” The black-haired teen shot back.

“You _need_ to talk about something else, Trickster.”

They locked in a staring match then. As per his expectation, Trickster gave up first.

Like a string cut from his body, the Wildcard drops his shoulders, exhaustion lining his defeated expression. His right palm covered his grey eyes, which slowly closes as if in pain. 

"... Morgana and Ryuuji are being a _bitch_."

Translation: I'm worried about Magician and Chariot and i don't know what to do.

Izanagi closes his eyes as Trickster's voice filled the room. Most of the time, Izanagi did not have to do anything. Trickster is a good shoulders and ears for his confidants to lean and to depend on. By listening to them, Trickster also _learns_. Yet it often left so little space for Trickster to learn about himself; most of the times, all Trickster has to do was to have courage to learn his own self talk, to line up his thoughts.

"... So this all would not have happened If I actually remember they have real animosity to each other sometimes. Like i can see it. But I _forget_ , you know? Morgana's mean but he means well most of the time. _Most_. Ryuuji doesn't take it well sometimes..... Many times." A pause. "Well. I have been a blind idiot." The messy haired wildcard finally concluded, staring at the air, making faces with the curl of his lips and his frown.

"At least you can see now." Izanagi quipped.

The teen shot him an unamused look before he stood up, and he all but run to his own cell, eager to return to the waking world. Good grief.

* * *

_"How about you guys stop talking about my intelligence already and ask Akira's progress on his crush?!"_

_"Oh ho? He knows the word intelligence..."_

_"Shut it, gremlin."_

_"Did you.. Did you just betray me, Ryuuji?"_

_"That's true! We haven't heard anything from that guy you like, Akira!"_

_"This is conspiracy to change the topic from your, might i add, deserved bullying and I_ like _it_ none _."_

_"Stop being so dramatic, Akira. Besides, we are curious about your crush! Now spill!"_

_"Um... excuse me? But I don't understand...."_

_"It's about Akira's crush, Haru-senpai. He's currently heads over heels in love with someone since May, I believe."_

_"In other words, a simp."_

_"So! Akira-kun! How many dates did you go with him?"_

_Silence._

_"Oh God."_

_"Now listen to me guys--"_

_"It has been_ months _. What have you been doing?!"_

_"--I will have you know I am a very busy man and I have many things to be done--"_

_"He's staring at his face all day, isn't he."_

_"And probably listening to his voice all day, too."_

_"Gaaayyy."_

_"I believe the correct term used here is Disaster Gay."_

_A Wheeze. "Oh my_ God _Inari_ thanks _."_

_"You're welcome?"_

_"--and it's hard because my gifts for him are given to MY Personas, I don't even know if he doesn't want to or couldn't actually go out freely or something happened the last time he went out, and he doesn't have likes or dislikes except ramen and rain outside the room!"_

_Silence, broken by a muffled girly giggle._

_"That one, Officer. That's the Frustrated Gay right there."_

_"Futaba, can you_ not _."_

_"T...here's something off here, Akira."_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Sorry but... uh... are you sure he is human?"_

_"Ryuuji."_

_"Like, I know he looks human, but none of us can see this room you mentioned, and the entrance is available in Mementos and Palace right? So is he a Shadow? Or other cognitive thingy?"_

_"Ryuuji!"_

_"But uh... I guess that's silly to say it now... Nevermind bro! Conti--what? Akira? Bro?! Talk to me!"_

_"Congratulations Ryuuji. You_ broke _him."_

* * *

Trickster walked to the Velvet Room with shadows hanging over his eyes.

Izanagi have heard the echoes of the Palace's Treasure stolen. He felt the Thieves and the Trickster around Mementos, almost tasting their bonds in his veins. And this is why Izanagi knew that Okumura's death was not on the Thieves. 

But he also understands that none of Izanagi's words would reach the Trickster now. Human hearts are such feeble things, apparently. The Trickster is the same. When it rains, it pours. And it will be no use to build a dam around the flow, best let it run its course until the Trickster is ready to face the world again. Until, inevitably, he would try again with the same hope he always has sparking in his Soul.

Without word, Izanagi stopped in front of the Wildcard. 

( _Small hands gripping his shirt. A choked cry. Sniffs covered by pitter patter of rain. Pained sob of a girl gripping the back of his clothes with trembling hands._ )

His finger twitch, as if the buzzing in his mind obstructed his limbs. But eventually, Izanagi pulled the teen to a hug by his shoulders and his back. Trisckster was tense for a second before he relaxed with a shuddering exhale, the hitch of his breath palpable on Izanagi's shoulders. 

For the second time, Trickster sobbed his grief out as Izanagi combs his unruly black hair, a futile attempt to calm the teen down.

* * *

Humanity made a lot of amusing questions, his Master Igor once said. Very amusing indeed.

One of those was, _If you can see the future, what will you do?_

Igor asked it to Izanagi, once. But the Detective did not see any need to answer such question. Everything is determined by Fate. The Gods play. Humans would struggle, but eventually it all return to the Gods, who have the authority to give or take humanity's might to rebel.

To answer such question is unnecessary. Futile. His Master, as if reading his answer by his silence, has chuckled then.

( A sinister chuckle, almost as if he is hiding something, an inside joke he only understands. )

But now, the question floats back to Izanagi's mind as he watched. 

In one time, the drug was too strong it muddled Trickster's mind to foggy silence, in so deep in his veins that not even Izanagi's voice could reach Trickster's mind anymore.

In one time, the injuries sustained in his body was too severe that the Trickster could not make it out in time.

In one time, Nijima Sae's heart was twisted so much so she _refused_ to believe anything the Trickster said.

In one time, the Crow got impatient and murdered the Trickster before Sae could make appearance.

In one time, the Trickster moved forward, escaped, and returned to his confidants.

Izanagi watched, as it took four times before the Trickster was able to pull through. It took four times with too many human lives lost to create a mere _possibility_ to win against the cruel game of the Gods.

 _If you can see the future_ , his mind whispered, _what will you do?_

Izanagi did nothing because it was not his purpose to meddle directly. Izanagi stood silent as he watched the myriads of possibilities and believed in _this_ Trickster because it is his journey; his to fail, his to give up, his to pull through. The Wildcard has always pulled through. With or without blood.

_( We can't just stand around like this! We have to do something!_

_We have the power to do something. And I will not stand still and watch! No matter how hard it is!_

_Being a mere teenager doesn't matter. If i know i can do something to help, I will do it._

_We_ can _do this. We_ will _do this together!_

_..That might be so. That might be better for you and for most people. But for me, that's one lives too many. It's_ enough _. I will not let any more murder happen. )_

* * *

As he whirled around, his katana materialized in his grip.

_That's_ four _murders too many._

_Far too many blood._

Izanagi stepped out of the Velvet Room, gripped his katana tighter in his hand, and _runs_.

* * *

Izanagi haven't had any chance to run before.

He felt like he had to remember how it felt like; was it this exhilarating? This tiring? Is this burning in his lungs and trembling in his limbs normal? ... _Have he ever done this before_? It feels familiar in a sense that it shouldn't be, it's his second time out of the Velvet Room, after all. It felt like he was about to burst, he couldn't even feel his limbs anymore. But he couldn't stop before he reached his destination or the shadows will catch up to him.

Relief surged in his breath when he spotted the colorful assemble of the Phantom Thieves in front of him. It feels like he could breath a little easier.

Izanagi slowed down once he made eye contact with the Trickster, his grey eyes widens as his jaw drops to a gape. It would be an amusing sight if only Izanagi wasn't so... ready to plop himself down on the floor. If only his throat wasn't so dry. This isn't the time for self-discovery or self-tiredness however, he resumed his stride to the Phantom Thieves.

 _What will you do_? Again, the question echoes in his mind. 

Izanagi swallowed heavily.

 _You should not do this_ , a part of himself, that is of his Creation of Purpose, scolded. _It is not ours to meddle._

And yet.

When Izanagi saw recognition on the Crow's red mask, Izanagi made his choice.

Before the brown-haired teen could react, Izanagi pounced on him; his katana unsheathed, pushing and pinning the teen on the wall with a loud _crack_ by his sword. The brown-haired teen tilted his head back, avoiding the pointy edges poised to behead on his neck.

There are shouts echoing in the previously silent corridor, and Izanagi pointed his sheath to the crowd behind him as a warning.

"Izanagi, my dear." Trickster's signature smug voice echoes, he stepped out from his circles of Confidants, looking cool and unruffled. Yet, times spent with the Wildcard made him see the Trickster's apprehension and nervousness, despite his chipper tone. "Mind telling the good ol' me what's going on?"

Without looking at the Trickster, Izanagi opened his mouth. 

"You are right to realize there are other people who have been using the Metaverse." He began, something uncomfortable twisting in the middle of his gut-- _ah, is this feeling... guilt?_ "The Velvet Room and Metaverse are connected. I know every Palaces, every Cognitive Selves, and every disturbances happened in the Metaverse. I know everyone who have been using it, and what they did." A pause.

"I apologize for the intrusion, Trickster. But _this one_ is the reason for the mental breakdowns. Crow... _Justice_.... you have become a twisted shell of your beliefs. I cannot let you disturb Trickster's Journey any longer." His yellow eyes met the Justice's brown eyes, preparing to knock the teen out and send him back to the real world, "Any words of goodbye?"

It was silence then.

"I have only one thing to say," Crow said, voice deceptively soft and pleasant albeit the rage boiling in his hazelnut eyes, _"I should have killed you long ago_."

A gust of wind appeared with the blue pyre of Persona materializing; Izanagi was pushed back by the force of it. He dug his katana down the ceramic floor, kneeling himself to a stop. Robin Hood materialized behind Crow, but the Persona twisted with black bulbous masses around it's figure, corrupting, wailing, _transforming_. The black mass of liquid drips down to cover the teen like a pitch black curtain, until his white costume changed to a get up of full black.

"Come, Loki." 

Izanagi stood up and braced himself to face the Persona, but the corrupted True Self readied to point his ginormous sword to--

"Trickster!"

Snapped out of his shock, Trickster called his mask, "Come, Jack Frost!" An enormous wall of ice erupted with the Trickster's command, blocking the attack yet shattering the ice. The Thieves scattered behind his back.

When Izanagi focused once more, Black Mask wasn't in front of him. He looked around, left, right and up--Black Mask stood on a kaleidoscope window panel, multicolored lights highlighting the gun barrel pointed down.

A gunshot echoes.

Izanagi _falls_ \--

_\--and from the depth of the Sea of Souls, Narukami Yu opened his eyes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys can all blame it on Akechi. Or thank Akechi, whichever you prefer wwwww  
> Also 4 chapters now i guess because I CANT WRITE LITTLE  
> And Akira's Personas reflects his simps on Izanagi so (shrug emoji) get rekt by yoursel(ves)f for your crush's attention, joker.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw you guys still read 'maybe; we fits' and even though the idea is good, the writing makes me want to bleed my eyes off
> 
> so i want to redeem that fic by this fic. this will be two shots i swear, and i still don't play P5 so pardon me for all plotholes and what not


End file.
